The Gothic Detectives
by Leo the Tiger
Summary: A crossover story I had written in 2013, but forgot to post until now. In sort of his Nightshift role, General Stoker (friend of the Biker Mice from Mars), assists rockers Nathan Knight (Cripto) and David Satterfield in solving a mystery after a joke by an ex-gangster sticks with them. Cripto, David, and Wildcat City belong to ME AND ME ALONE. DO NOT STEAL!
1. Chapter 1

**The Gothic Detectives (Crossover)**

* * *

 **Chpater 1:  
Introductory Remarks**

Cripto here. Everybody knows me as the tiger that rocks the house with Furry Fury, and everybody knows me as the superhero that's also a soldier, game show host, sometimes cowboy, entrepreneur (with the bowling package and assisting Jonathan J. Lionheartous with his Game Show Box), and a bunch of other things I can be. (The most recent one is the soldier part; although I'm actually serving in the intelligence units of the Kansas National Guard, I still carry a PHASR.)

The most frustrating thing about the superhero bit is people asking me why I had the "freak accident" that brought the canon characters to life. My most common answer is that it was just the stupid wish I unconciously made in my mind. It's as simple as that. It is true that my powers used to act without me telling them to act, but I have a theory that my inner thoughts of weird and random things I had been dreaming about (and I had dreamt about those things). What's to be noted here is that the supervillain Copycat, who wants to settle the score with me, has the ability to copy anyone's powers, so in my case he'd take the canon characters away if he so desired. Even if it got me a demerit on the system I had been placed on, the world had agreed that because it was used to seeing the canon characters, it was only fair that I brought them back if they had disappeared. They wouldn't cause a time paradox. Leo the Patriotic Lion's parallels, however, would, given the fact that history wasn't thrown out of whack by their arrivals, but instead fulfilled and going according to plan because they appeared.

Okay, so that's the long scoop on me, but what about the brief scoops on the other two? It'll take way less time to talk about them. I mention it because what started as a joke later became a joint effort between me, my friends, and the canon characters, in what was the latest detective case in the G-52 files. (The canon characters are allies to the G-52 organization, so any contributions they'd have to add ending criminal schemes go in our files.) The heavy metal and leather subculture also added to what was once the joke; because the three of us altogether have a collective nickname: the Gothic Detectives.

Stoker is the one you should be familiar with in regards to the canon characters, because he is the drummer for the Martian Freedom Fighters, the rock group starring the Biker Mice From Mars, and he started the whole Freedom Fighter movement on Mars as well as invented the Regenerator. As of right now, he's made a rechargeable one that has successfully terraformed Mars, so that's in the bag. He has two alter-egos, Super Stoker for a daytime profile (which came about when the green and yellow tetrahydrocarbons he used for his rechargeable Regenerator caused his superpowers to develop), and the one the public already knew about, which is his nighttime profile, Nightshift. (This one was the one where he used a mask and black disguise so that nobody would notice him, since the Martian population thought he turned traitor or otherwise didn't know what to think; the notable exception was Vinnie, who staunchly defended him during the period until it was made clear Stoker was still a hero. Leo the Patriotic Lion would later praise him for it.)

The third of the trio is wolf rocker David Satterfield, head of the Wolfpack, and the sure textbook definition of a furry heavy metal rock of the 70s and 80s, given the peak of his band's original success was in the era of big hair, super loud guitars, and crazy clothing. Due to CNG immortalization effects affecting him and the whole band, they are still to this day producing new songs for new albums, and newer compilation albums for those who prefer to have those.

Well, hope that gave you some background on what was to happen next.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:  
How It Began**

So how did we get the nickname "The Gothic Detectives?" Well, Stoker, David, and I all wear black on a regular basis. The "gothic" part refers to the black clothes alone, although David does have his chain necklace; Stoker and I do not wear necklaces or any other male jewelry. The real credit goes to ex-gangster-turned-defense attorney Mugsy Johnson, a bulldog that once stole pizza and pizza ingredients in order to start his own pizza business. (The combined efforts of the SWAT Kats and Sonic the Hedgehog put an end to that.) He intended it to be a joke, but just like how WARCAT got his codename, it stuck forever, and we soon started solving mysteries together. In cases where I was required to use my CRIPTOCAT identity, David and Stoker would stand by for help if SUPERCAT or Leo the Patriotic Lion needed their input.

I'd also like to point out before I forget that throughout this whole saga, Stoker was wearing his Nightshift disguise, but did not wear the mask that went with it; since Vinnie helped clear his name, he had no more need for the mask.

The whole thing all began one day when Leo the Patriotic Lion had been testing his network contacts to see how each group fared with specific challenges and battles. Stoker and Sonic were at the Last Chance Garage where Charley was fixing WARCAT's bike, and while playing cards with Stoker as well as talking to him about the Regenerator (because he had a few questions), Sonic made the comment, "Hey! Glad to see you got the Regenerator back home successfully, but why the black outfit? I thought you were a superhero."

"I'm both," said Stoker. "This is part of my Nightshift outfit, minus the mask. Actually, I think I look better in black without the mask. The other night, I helped the Biker Mice rescue that runaway 16-year-old foster girl and the dead criminal she was dating at the time; the killer turned out to be Limburger, by the way. We helped her get to safety as he went another way, except he died by Limburger's doing. Someone else who was watching me made the comment, 'I see you are wearing black. Are you a gothic detective?' I begin to laugh at this point because I see where he's going with it and explain my true role, but he said, 'Oh, you have potential. You just get yourself and two other guys in black and you've got yourself a crime busting business!' He could have been making jokes about our last live show in this town because we have a single called 'Bad in Black,' which we performed during that show."

"Well, it was a good one," Sonic smiled.

"Thanks. Who was that, anyway?" Stoker continued. "I thought I knew his face. It wasn't WARCAT. It wasn't Throttle, and it definitely wasn't that homeless cat that helped you and the SWAT Kats bring Mugsy Johnson to justice. He must have been imagining me as a furry version Sam Spade or Sherlock Holmes, so he said I was a gothic detective. I like the way that rolls off the tongue, though; gothic detective. It fits quite nicely."

"Can you give me a hint?" Sonic asked.

"I think he was a bulldog and he spoke with a Mafia-type voice and he dressed that way, but it was evident he wasn't a crook. No, wait; he didn't speak with a Mafia-type voice, but he mentioned something about a gang that did and he used to be part of it."

"Then it was Mugsy himself," Sonic concluded. "I can only state it was him. It just makes more sense."

"So it does," said Stoker, laying down his cards to reveal his winning hand. "That's a gin."

"You got me," Sonic smiled. "I don't think I could've won anyway."

By that point, the SWAT Kats and the Biker Mice arrived. Leo the Patriotic Lion turned to face them. "How'd it go?" he asked.

"Well, as far as your challenge goes," Razor announced, "I think the mice have us beat. It evens us out because we won the last challenge involving the desert where the Alcatraz escapee was hiding, but this was the Arctic North where Limburger tried to restore that satellite. His tower's totaled, so that's a relief."

"What a rush!" Vinnie exclaimed.

"Yes, well said, rookie," Stoker replied.

Meanwhile, David and I were jamming out on our electric guitars and singing along to one of his tunes playing on the radio, "Growling For You." I was basically showing him that I mastered the guitar as he did, and he liked it. "Hey, you're a natural!" he smiled when the song finished.

"Thanks," I smiled back as I set my guitar down next to my amplifier. David did likewise. "I try to be great."

"I'm glad to see you have your own band, 'Furry Fury,' but you'd be a great addition to my band any day of the week if you were a wolf and not a tiger."

"You really think so?"

"Yes. You've got the touch. You've got the personality. You've got the black. You've got the life story to back it up and you've got the glory—the glory of the red, white, and blue, that is; I have to give Leo credit for that."

"And I'm glad you did," Leo replied, hearing the remark. "Red, white, and blue go together so naturally and so well."

At that moment, Mugsy Johnson came in. He was wearing his typical motorcycle gear, but as Sonic stated, he wasn't a criminal anymore; he just continued to look like one to help the public identify who he was. His motorcycle was more of a sport racing type, like Vinnie's bike, expect it was yellow. "Yep, he's the guy," Sonic clarified to Stoker after Stoker showed him a card of him in a syndicate outfit of brown (including the fedora), of which acknowledged Mugsy's new job as a defense attorney, asking about it.

"Ah, Mugsy," Leo spoke up, being the first to acknowledge the former pizza thief. "What can we do for you?"

"Yes, I'm looking for the gothic detective that helped me with that case the other night," Mugsy began. "Is he here somewhere?"

"He's taking about me," Stoker spoke up, proceeding to explain to Leo the story the he told Sonic while playing gin. Leo chuckled at the comment, saying to Mugsy, "That's a nice nickname for him. He does do a bit of that type of work at night, when he's in his Nightshift outfit. I couldn't have recruited a better rock drummer than him, though Shadow and Fango might argue with that."

"You play rock drums?" Mugsy asked in confusion.

"You ever heard of the Martian Freedom Fighters?" Stoker replied. "I'm their drummer." He took out his pair of drumsticks and showed them to Mugsy.

"Oh, I see," said Mugsy. Then he turned and spotted me and David. "Well, there's the other two I guess I was talking about the other night, when I said you just needed two more."

"He was joking, you understand," I said to David.

"Yeah, but if it sticks like WARCAT's nickname did, we may have a new side job in addition to rock-and-roll," David replied. "I'll just have to tell my band about that. I suggest you do the same."

"Sure," I said. "I do need a new challenge. The G-52 organization has been pretty quiet lately since Bendraqi's last capture. We must be at the end of the Q4-era."

"Once a G-52, always a G-52," Leo replied. "But one thing's for sure; you, David, and Stoker would make a killer trio, like if you were to try and do one of those triple acts as a publicity stunt for a rock-and-roll tour."

"Hey!" everyone exclaimed. "That's a great idea!" Stoker added.

"We can do a promo for the next Rockapalooza festival this town holds every year with such a stunt," I said. "I guess even though Mugsy meant it to be a joke, we're taking it to heart. It happened with WARCAT, and it's happening with us."

"Now we just need some type of headquarters signifying our agency and we're all set," David chuckled, adding to the joke.

"This'll have to do for now," Stoker added, pointing to the garage. "Nothing personal on you, Charley."

"Nothing taken," said Charley. "I like the idea."

"Well, anyway, the Gothic Detective Agency is now open for business," I said. "Joke intended, of course, but it will stick with us forever more as previous stated by me. Uh, Mugsy, did you have a case you wanted us to solve now that the nickname has stuck and the joke has become a reality, just like how WARCAT got his nickname, or were you just happy to see us?"

"A little bit of both," said Mugsy. "I also have a problem with my bike, but I've already made arrangements with Charley." He pointed out to Charley what he thought the problem was and she began to examine it. Then he continued, "I never did officially get to thank General Stoker and the Biker Mice here for their help in tracking down the escaped convict from prison who intended to rob City Hall of its belongings, but apparently, this is the latest in a running gag of theft attempts, and this one was dating that 16-year-old foster girl. Limburger inadvertently killed him while trying to tap into the power supply of the city last night, which foiled his plan. Of course, he blamed it all on you." His remark was directed towards Throttle, Modo, and Vinnie.

"That explains that power surge we had last night," I said as I reached for a notepad and pencil and began to take notes while everybody else listened intently.

"The precious belongings are the plaques, and statuettes of the famous people this town has had in its history," Mugsy continued, "and Leo, you, Tom, and Tom's father—who is included in this because he is a Hellcat drummer—are among the latest ones to be added, by the way."

"When's the ceremony?" Leo asked.

"Tomorrow," Mugsy replied. Leo made a note of that. "It's at City Hall at 10 a.m. I know the public will be disappointed if you do not show up, much less Tom or his father. I think John the Tiger was another inductee. Anyway, the syndicate happens to be run by one of my former employees. He hasn't made the switch from evil to good and probably never will. I cannot remember his name because it's been two months since I paid the $250,000 fine for my pizza crimes and gave up criminal life. Since I can guarantee that he's a bulldog just like me, I can also say you should expect to see him in a brown hat, brown suit, brown tie, and brown pants and shoes. Brown is the name of the crime game these days."

"Well, we solved that problem," David spoke up. "We're wearing black!" Everybody laughed mildly.

"I guess you did," Mugsy chuckled. "Anyway, here's what else I know: the robberies always happen at night, but the time varies. The police are always left guessing and the criminals always get away, but lately, these crooks haven't gotten their paws on a single possession. Maybe it's the security system. That's all I know, unfortunately."

"That's not much to go on," I said. "We're going to need more evidence than that to file a warrant so we can arrest the crook. At least I do."

"How tall is he?" Stoker asked.

"I wish I knew," said Mugsy, shaking his head. "He has the Mafia-type voice you'd expect of a gangster, and he has the same skin color as me. If you want a better comparison, think of Katscratch's three mobsters that used to work for him. Oh, wait; you don't have any idea, do you?"

"I know who you're talking about," Stoker nodded.

"So do I," I said.

"That means I'm the odd one out," David added. "I've seen excerpts of those Godfather movies, however, so I have an idea. Someone once wanted me to take up that kind of acting, but I don't regret choosing the music industry. I feel better, but I wish I had never seen those movie excerpts. They were scary!"

"Well, thanks for the tip nevertheless," Leo spoke up. "This gives us a head start. And remember, everyone, we're all in this together. Nathan, David, and Stoker may be the head trio on this case thanks to Mugsy's joke, but this is a G-52 + ally deal here. Nathan, show me your notes so I can make a copy to show SUPERCAT. He'll know what to do in case the crooks go the wrong direction. He's also an excellent counterattack strategist. What I want to know is why the crooks are getting away with nothing. That's another case, though."

"Okay," I said, showing my notes to Leo. He jotted them down on his own notepad, as Charley finished the job. "There," she said. "Done. Your engine should be just fine now. You don't happen to have a defective bike, do you? I've had customers come to me multiple times only to find out the bikes were defective, but that case was solved a long time ago."

"No, mine isn't defective, as far as I know," said Mugsy, "but if it is, then I'll know for sure if I end up coming back another few times for the same problem. Hang on. I'll write the check in a minute."

"Sure. I have to go, anyway." Charley got up to go to the bathroom.

"Well," I said, "if we're going to solve this mystery, we should start by talking to some other people. Mugsy, do you know some others susceptible to being robbed, or is it just the mayor and City Hall?"

"There have been a few bank robbery attempts," said Mugsy, getting out his checkbook, "but the police have caught them in the act; some of them, anyway. The others who tried to rob City Hall always escape their grasp, yet they end up with nothing, so it wasn't worth it. One of them were added to the 'world's dumbest criminals' list after he tried to crack a safe in one of the banks but saw the security camera and started waving at it as if to say, 'Hi, Mom; I'm on TV!' Another person trying to rob the nearest Wal-Mart™ here in this town wrote a check while buying a key to unlock his handcuffs—while he was still wearing the handcuffs. Of course, he went to the bathroom to unlock the cuffs while the cashier called the police, and he came out only to be given a brand new pair."

"How stupid can you be?" I said.

"Oh, I've seen worse, and could care less," said Throttle, referring to Ronaldo Rump. By that point, Mugsy had finished his business with Charley and left the garage. We all left to eat lunch, but for myself, David, and Stoker, the case had just begun!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:  
The Case with Debbie**

It seemed when we got to the diner Mugsy suggested we eat at, there were a few fans waiting for us. "They must've not got a chance for an autograph," I said to myself as I begin signing a few photos with a Sharpie. David and Stoker did likewise. Other fans that made it evident they were our fans were happy to see us in person, for that was all they dreamed about. With Leo on the scene, though, the fans kept out of our way most of the time, since they were somewhat paranoid of him, not knowing he was correcting those issues of his involving harshness and judgment, a fact he pointed out to the people. "Yet those harsh things seem to be working," he said to one of the fans that asked him about it. "Apparently people obey me simply because I am a lion. I am the king of the jungle. It's hard to be humble when you're king of the jungle, believe me. Meanwhile, just abide by what I say and keep your hands off those three. They have work to do."

Stoker, David, and I sat at the same six-person booth as Leo and Mugsy so we could get a fresh start at investigating the evidence we knew about so far and figure out who were supposed to talk to in order to potentially find more evidence. "Okay, what have we got so far?" I asked.

"We know Limburger accidentally killed the crook the 16-year-old foster girl was dating, which foiled his plan," Stoker replied. "We also know the crooks are trying to steal the plaques and statuettes of this town's famous icons, and Leo is among those to be added, so the crooks are sure to be at the ceremony. Then again, maybe not; Leo, you are a powerful icon."

"All the crook has to do is take one look at me or even at Tom or John and they are stricken with bad conscience and surrender for life," Leo replied. "It always happens. So I'm not worried."

"The ringmaster culprit, our primary target, has a Mafia-type voice and was last seen in a brown outfit," Stoker continued. "The latest attempts at robberies were all unsuccessful but when it comes to City Hall, the police can't catch the crooks that get away with nothing. Hey. Do you suppose that Flame the Werewolf is in on this?"

"Flame the Werewolf?" I asked in confusion. "Who is that?"

"Are you talking about the Scorchopolis hero from that TV show?" David added.

"Yes," said Stoker. "He helped me and the Biker Mice capture Ronaldo Rump and forced him to confess his real premise behind using the Regenerator. Apparently it was his only way of making money."

"Indeed," Leo nodded. "I was a witness. David, I see you know who he is, but Nathan, just so you are aware, Flame is a fiery red-and-black werewolf that's always seen as a wolf. A space-time continuum mishap forced him to leave Scorchopolis and the planet that city is located on forever, but he saved the day in such a way that the public thought he sacrificed himself. He never had a job, a home, a family, or money, and lived his life by instinct and survival. Yet he never let a criminal get away with lawlessness in the end, since one of his abilities is the ability to disappear and reappear in front of the criminal so that the criminal gets a shock and faints, or otherwise flees. It's true in the show and it's true in real life."

"Never seen it," I said, shaking my head.

"It's all right," Stoker replied. "The show is all based on a true story. Anyway, Flame is the type that does not rest until a crime goes punished. That explains his continuous haunting of Rump until we caught up with him. Rump eventually confessed it was his only source of income, and soon he was back in jail. All the money in his bank account and every family member's bank account of his was taken out, and it equaled half the total of this country's national debt, so the cash paid for it, and CRIPTOCAT, as I heard, took care of the rest. Oh, wait a minute. Nathan, that's you, isn't it? How silly of me to forget!"

"That's all right," I said. "You're absolutely right. In fact, I sent six times the amount and asked the government to invest it for everything except political gain, as well as do a better job of not spending so much. Plus, they took your advice, Leo, and now we don't have political parties anymore."

"Indeed," Leo nodded. "George Washington, your wish has finally come true. Anyways, if Flame isn't the cause behind those crooks fleeing with nothing, I don't know who or what is."

"I don't think it's you," I said.

"Why would it be me?"

"The whole thing about just saying your name strikes fear into the outlaws, that's why."

"Oh. Well, I asked people to stop using me as a threat because it only adds to the negative reputation I've built up for myself. Yet it works; it gets crooks to surrender, and so many positive things happened because of my harshness. Why? Oh, well; no use dwelling on it."

"Where do you think is the best place to start our investigation, then?"

"City Hall. The mayor's the one those crooks are wanting to kill in addition to robbing him of his building's plaques and statuettes." Leo paused to cough.

"Okay, City Hall it is," I nodded, making a note in my notepad while listening to the radio play "I Won't Stand in Your Way" by the Stray Cats. Mugsy also said to me, "Oh, I forgot something. The gang I used to lead is known as the 'Dawg in the Pound' Gang. The name comes from the fact the leader is a bulldog to this day, although right now, it's not me. Hope that helps."

"Thanks for the tip," I said, writing that down. "Now we know who we're after, sort of."

Later, at City Hall, David, Stoker and I spoke to the mayor about the situation. First we explained how Mugsy's little joke became a reality we were forever stuck with, and the mayor approved of the idea. "It happened with WARCAT, and I guess it could happen to anybody famous," he said. "I suppose WARCAT would work perfectly if you needed a fourth, but who am I to say so? It probably works better with just three of you. In the meantime, you don't have to remind that my life is in jeopardy; I knew that already. But I'm not worried; with Leo around, those crooks don't have a chance, whoever they are."

"Well, right now we just need some more clues," said David. "Do you remember the pizza thief that paid the big fine and gave up crime a few months ago?"

"Yes. Why?"

"He told us he thinks one of his fellow gangsters is in charge of leading the operation. He was last seen in a brown outfit like any Mafia gangster would wear, and he had the type of voice as well, which sounds something like this." David switched to his impression of a Mafia crime boss to add to the illustration, saying, "Okay, Morelli; come out of there. I told you, Morelli; this is my territory! Now get out of here before I rub you out!" He switched back to his normal voice. "Do you get the idea?"

"Okay, that might explain a few things then."

"Have you seen somebody of that nature hanging around here lately?"

"No, because I close my office at six o'clock. Then I find some place to eat dinner. I have a security system installed in case of emergency, but it has been two years since it last went off, not counting those false alarms used just to test the alarm and see that it works correctly. The police have reported attempted robberies to me involving the plaques and statuettes you spoke of, and I can say that they are indeed at risk."

"Have you seen a fiery red-and-black werewolf around here?" I asked. "His name is Flame, and he can disappear and reappear in front of criminals. It's not a prank; it's his way of stopping a crime before it starts." I showed him a photo of Flame.

"I don't remember seeing him," said the mayor after looking at the photo. "I have seen the TV show that dramatized him, so I know who he is. If he's what's forcing the criminals to flee with no success, I don't see why he hasn't caught them yet."

"He hasn't had much luck with catching the criminals in this town," I said. "We had to tell him, 'This is Wildcat City. Civilization is way far more advanced than what you are used to.' Scorchopolis, at least the part Flame could be found in most of the time, had yet to exit the Stone Age. Other parts of it look like this place. I'm just going off what Leo the Patriotic Lion told me, and I think Flame prefers the life without modern convinces, at least those he can afford to avoid in this present age."

"I see. Well, as it so happens, Leo is one of my new inductees," the mayor replied. "The ceremony's tomorrow."

"We knew that," I said. "Who else have you to induct alongside him?"

"Well, let's see," said the mayor as he pulled out a list. "The other inductees are Tom Wilder, otherwise known as Tom the Patriotic Tiger, and his father, Benjamin Wilder, a Hellcat drummer for 30 years and counting."

"Is John the Tiger on the list?" asked Stoker.

"No, he's not, and I sincerely wish he was," the mayor replied, shaking his head. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering. He is on the same level of importance as Leo."

"Oh, I see. Well, I wish I could help you more, but all I know is that the crooks have gotten away with nothing, and one of them was the one that Lawrence Limburger creep killed by accident. I still ordered the police to arrest him for his crime, which was really his attempt to tap into our power supply, shut it off forever, and send it to Plutark."

"How'd the crook die?"

"I don't know, but maybe that 16-year-old girl does. I do know this: she ran away from the foster home she was living in, because, according to her, 'My foster parents hate me! All they do is treat me like dirt!' So I'm hoping the new home she's in has better foster parents."

"Well, thanks anyway, mayor," Stoker spoke up. "And good luck with the ceremony tomorrow. We three won't be able to see it because we'll be working on the case."

"Sure," said the mayor, waving good-bye. "Good luck with the case. Oh, and here's the address of the foster home that 16-year-old girl is living at right now. You may need it." He handed me a piece of paper that read "2746 South Pint Street."

"Now what do we do?" David asked as he and I walked back to his convertible, and Stoker saddled up on his motorcycle. I sat in the passenger seat. (I had my driver's license but my car was at home, so I just rode with David.)

"I wonder if we can talk to that 16-year-old girl?" I suggested. "If not, it's because she won't cooperate or she is not willing to believe her ex-boyfriend was a crook. It's just a hunch, but it's worth a try."

"Where's the address?" Stoker asked.

"It's 2746 South Pint Street. It should be just on the other side of the Wildcat City Southpaw Mall, if I remembered that correctly." We drove off towards the home, although we had to wait in a traffic jam resulting from trains crossing at railroads. After about half an hour, we made it to the foster home.

"This must be it," Stoker spoke up when we arrived at the house. "This doesn't look like a foster home to me, though; look at how fancy it is!"

"It looks like one of those Tudor homes," I said. "Well, let's see if anyone's home." We walked up to the door and knocked. A few seconds later, a woman answered the door. "May I help you?" she asked, wondering why she was in the presence of three of the nation's top furry rock stars.

"Yes," Stoker said. "We're the Gothic Detectives. I don't know if you heard of the joke or not, but it's spreading around town in the same way WARCAT got his nickname, and it's stuck; as a result, we're now working on our first case. The mayor sent us here because he thinks this is the current foster home of that 16-year-old girl that was recently in the news."

"Oh, you mean when her boyfriend died because of Limburger's threat to take away our electricity? Yes, this is the house. We don't like strangers entering the house, but we see you are no strangers. Which one of you is the one from 'Furry Fury' otherwise known as the CRIPTOCAT?"

"That's me," I said, pointing to myself. "Why do you ask?"

"Debbie happens to be one of your biggest fans, that's why. Since it is you, she may ask for your autograph. Then again, she's very sensitive and doesn't like to talk about her boyfriend. Hang on one second, and I'll get her." The woman left and turned to Debbie's bedroom, telling her what was happening. When she returned, Debbie came with her. "Rock stars at my house!" she exclaimed. "This is a dream come true! Of course, I see you're here on business, but may I have your autograph anyway?"

"Which one of us?" I said.

"You." She pointed to me.

"Okay, sure. Hang on one second." I pulled out a Sharpie and signed the piece of paper. Then I took out my notepad, and David and Stoker followed suit. "There you go," I said when I finished signing the paper.

"Thanks," Debbie smiled, although a tear came out. She sniffled, then said, "Sorry, my allergies are kicking in. Uh, what do you want to know about my boyfriend?"

"The usual," said David. "What's his name? What's his age? What was he doing? All that jazz. We're hoping it can give us a clue as to the whereabouts of the leader of the 'Dawg in the Pound' Gang and even if Limburger has anything to do with the master plan."

"Okay," said Debbie, stepping outside to check the mail, but continuing to talk to us. After she pulled out some bills for her foster mother and father to pay and handed them to her foster mother, she turned back to us and said, "I don't like to talk about him, but if I must, I must. His name was Josh Hartford." We jotted that down, and all subsequent information. "I'm 16. He was 21. I regret running away from the previous foster home, but all those foster parents did was abuse me and treat me like dirt. I can't believe I'm still going to high school despite it. I wonder why Josh did not treat me like dirt? Anyway, I didn't realize he was a criminal until the incident where he died, but I was getting a little bit suspicious."

"How'd he die?" David asked.

"After robbing a bank using dynamite, he came across a big electrical current that Lawrence Limburger had set up. I watched as the city lights flickered off and on several times, and eventually stayed on. When Josh tripped over the current, the voltage was enough to electrocute him to death, and he wasn't even sitting in a chair. I called the police and told them what was happening, and they assumed Limburger was guilty of murder, so they arrested him and said I was the town's hero for catching him in the act, even though Josh was trying to use me as a decoy. When they also found out my story behind running away, they put me in this current foster home, and these two have been so nice to me."

"How'd your previous foster parents abuse you?" I asked. "Or are you not willing to say something about that? I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything."

"Oh, no, you're not," Debbie replied. "I'm just having a hard time staying calm. Must be the heat out here. Anyway, the most common type of abuse was the type where the parents beat the kid up when they're not satisfied or otherwise angry, and they choose to blame it all on the kid. Sometimes they'd pin me to the wall and beat me up. Sometimes they'd pick me up and throw me at the wall, and sometimes they'd duct tape me to the wall so that I couldn't breathe. Somehow, I always managed to escape using my teeth, but that's a different story. That same thing once happened to my sister, but she's 22, and she's moved out. She just graduated from college and has found a job at the newspaper. If you're lucky, she might interview you at some point."

"She might," Stoker nodded. "How did you know Josh was a criminal?"

"When I saw the money bags he was carrying, I knew something was fishy. His behavior was making me suspicious anyway, and I planned on breaking up with him. I just didn't want my previous foster parents to find me. They'd just beat me up again."

"I see," I said. "Do you happen to know if Josh was part of the 'Dawg in the Pound' Gang? That used to be Mugsy Johnson's syndicate before he tried robbing the city of all its pizza. One of his ex-co-workers is leading the crime spree that's attempting to steal the plaques and statuettes of the city's most famous icons from City Hall, and the same gang is plotting to kill the mayor."

"Josh was wearing a brown outfit with a suit and tie, come to think of it," Debbie replied, recalling a few more details. "He didn't use the Mafia voice expected of those crooks, but he sure acted like it."

"Did the outfit look like this?" David held up a photo of Mugsy in the brown outfit that he described his gang wore.

"Yes, it did," said Debbie. "Oh, that reminded me. Here's his gang ID card." She held up the card that indicated Josh was indeed belonging to the gang Mugsy once led.

"Then he was part of the gang!" I exclaimed.

"Yes," said Debbie. "Here. You can have this. I don't want it anymore. It's giving me nightmares."

"It could be a clue," said Stoker. "Uh, you're a foster girl, but have you ever met your biological parents?"

"Or even your grandparents or your aunt and uncle?" I added.

"No," said Debbie. "They all died two weeks after I was born in a trolley accident while vacationing in San Francisco. Hmmm. That was also Lawrence Limburger's fault. What's his problem? He may have something to do with this after all. Anyways, I was put in foster care because there was no one else that wanted to adopt me. It's sad. Nathan, it's nothing compared to the life you lived as a child, because I didn't have a bratty brother or a bully picking on me. Still, I hope I was able to help. Let me know how the case ends. And thanks for the autograph; I didn't get a chance to get one after that last show of yours, but I attended it."

"Sure thing," I said. "Uh, were you on your own or was Josh with you? I thought I knew your face from seeing you in the front row."

"I was by myself."

"Okay."

"Did the police tell your previous foster parents that you are now in this home?" Stoker asked.

"I don't know. If not, they're probably still searching for me. Yikes!" Debbie's sudden gasp was directed towards the blue Ford that pulled up in the driveway. "That's their car!"

"What about that red Ford?" I asked.

"That's my current foster dad's car," Debbie replied. She watched as her current foster father exited his car and walked up to the front door, with her former foster mother and father following at a distance. We could see the irritated look on their faces.

"At a time like this I wish we had a badge stating who were are," I said, starting to shake a bit. "Better create one." I snapped my fingers so that a police detective-style badge appeared in the left pocket of the black jackets David and I were wearing. Stoker received one in one of his Nightshift outfit's pockets (just remember he wasn't wearing the mask).

"Don't worry about it, Nathan," Stoker replied with confidence. "I'm not letting any abusive dork attack you again!" (I previously caught Louis Loserberg's dad escaping from prison and he and I emerged in a fight, which I won, but at a price; I was so exhausted I passed out, and it was Stoker who came to my aid.) He and David glared at the former foster parents while I stood next to Debbie. "Don't panic, Debbie; we'll protect you," I said.

"Thanks," she replied nervously.

Debbie's current foster father turned to face the former foster parents, who seemed to be glaring at Debbie. "What is the meaning of this?" he said sternly.

"She is!" said the former foster father, pointing to Debbie. "You spoiled, selfish, self-centered little brat, running away from us like that! You're in for a good spanking now! Come here!" He moved in as he typically did when he abused Debbie in the past.

"Hold it right there, punk!" Stoker suddenly shouted. "Don't you dare lay a hand on her!"

"Who asked you, rodent?" the father sneered, almost sounding like one of those baseball playing humans Bugs Bunny used to boo in the short "Baseball Bugs." "She ran away and she's getting what she deserves!" He grabbed Debbie by the shirt and tried to drag her off, but I kicked him in the back and he dropped Debbie. "Oh, so you want to get tough, eh?" he sneered again as she ran inside the house. "Who are you, you idiot?"

I pulled out my badge as well as my G-52 badge stating I was the CRIPTOCAT. "I am the CRIPTOCAT. G-52s. And I place you under arrest for your torturous torturing of that girl! She ran away to escape the abuse you and your wife gave her all those years!"

"Why you little…" the father began, grasping me by the neck. I snapped my fingers and he loosened his grip. Stoker, by whipping his tail, grabbed a gun from his motorcycle and pointed it at the father, whose face was getting redder by the second. "Let's stop right there!" he shouted. "I order you to halt in the name of Leo the Patriotic Lion!"

"Leo the Patriotic Lion?" the dad exclaimed, freezing in shock as his red face turned blue. "Since when has he been in on this?"

"He hasn't," I said, "but he is a G-52 like me, and he'd have you pinned to the electric chair for your actions if he was here!"

"Give it up," David added. "You haven't got a chance."

"Besides," said Debbie's current foster father, "the police ordered us to take her in. You don't have control of her anymore."

"They never told us," said the former dad, trying to cover up a lie.

"Oh, yes, they did," said the current dad. "Here's the proof." He held the newspaper from yesterday that stated so. "Your answering machine must not have gotten the message."

"Now you just get back in your car and set your eyes on the police station, then turn yourselves in, because my eye's sure going to be on you. Kapish?" Stoker sneered, gritting his teeth.

"Okay, okay, you got us!" the dad replied. "Just keep your hands to yourself! We're going to jail right now! We're going! We're going already! But first let us tell you that our abuse to Debbie was just a front to our real deeds!" He and his wife showed their gang ID cards to us.

"So you're part of the 'Dawg in the Pound' Gang, too!" I exclaimed. "You rotten buffalo!"

"Stoker, go ahead with your duty to book them and show them the way to the police station," David called. "Nathan and I are staying behind here so we can help Debbie calm down again."

"That'll work," Stoker said. "I did say I was keeping my eye on him. And believe me, Modo would've done the same." He led the blue Ford back to the police station and informed them of what was happening. David and I walked over to Debbie, who had embraced her current parents after they assured her everything was going to be all right. Then Debbie turned to us and said, "Thank you! Thank you for everything! I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here."

"No need to thank us; it's part of the job," David replied. "Just calm down and don't let it ever bother you again, okay?"

"Okay," said Debbie. She shed a few more tears.

"David, I think you'd better call Leo and tell him what's been happening in case he doesn't know already," I suggested. "It seems we're capturing one gang member after another."

"Right," said David, pulling out his communicator. (Yes, as an ally, he has one.) He paged Leo's number and reported the news, and Leo, in turn, told SUPERCAT, who worked on his own strategy in case ours did not work out. David and I then clarified to Debbie's current foster dad on the situation as a whole and asked them some more questions. They agreed to cooperate in any future way possible, then said that their fancy Tudor home became a certified foster home after the mom received medical proof she would never have any children of her own, and they always had a caring heart for kids. They even volunteered with preschoolers at the church they attended.

By the time we left to catch up with Stoker, Debbie had calmed down entirely and gave her current foster parents a hug, saying, "I'm so glad you are not like them. Please don't be like them."

"We won't, Debbie," they said. "We're sorry they tried to come back to get you so they could do it all over again. But everything is going to be all right, thanks to the Gothic Detectives."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:  
Flame's Side of the Story**

When David and I caught up with Stoker at the police station, the Sheriff was waiting for us. "I see you apprehended your suspects," he said. "But how did you get him to surrender?"

"Simple," I said. "We mentioned Leo."

"Leo the Patriotic Lion? No wonder he was scared stiff. He wouldn't even speak to me as I read him his rights after your friend handed him over to me. All his wife said was that she wanted a divorce and it was never to be."

"Really?"

"Yes. Well, my fellow officers and I are taking notes of evidence as well, by the way. We told Leo and SUPERCAT after they asked, but we didn't tell you, seeing as how Mugsy Johnson's little joke became a reality."

"It's actually quite challenging solving a mystery like this," Stoker said, "and I look forward to difficult challenges. Oh, and by the way, that 16-year-old girl was willing to talk to us, and here's what she had to say. Her name is Debbie." We informed the Sheriff of everything Debbie told us, even showing the gang ID cards that belonged to Josh and to her former foster parents. "You did tell them, didn't you?" I asked.

"We did," said the Sheriff, "but either they weren't paying attention or they have a very short-term memory, or they cut the phone line."

"Hmmm," I said to myself. Then I forgot what my thought was, so, naturally, I asked, "You haven't happened to have seen Flame the Werewolf lurking about, have you?"

"No," said the Sheriff, "but I've heard rumors that he's been preventing the crooks of the 'Dawg in the Pound' Gang from being able to rob City Hall of its belongings and murder our mayor."

"So have we," said David. "We haven't had a chance to talk to him yet. He's great at stopping the crimes. He's just not very good at apprehending the criminals. Sometimes they question if their seeing things, but they're not. What I want to know is how he knows about the criminals' plans without any source telling him."

"He can't possibly be omnipotent," the Sheriff objected. "He's a wolf!"

"Do you know anything about when the crooks strike or something like that?" I asked, trying to get everybody back on track.

"I know they happen at night," said the Sheriff. "So far we've only been able to catch one of them. Unfortunately, that turned out to be the 16-year-old girl's boyfriend, whom Lawrence Limburger killed, and by the time we found him, he was dead, and she was weeping."

"Well, that's not going to help," Stoker replied. "Have you noticed any unusual activity going on in addition to the attempt robberies?"

Just then, the phone rang. "I think this will answer your question," the Sheriff said as he picked up the phone. "Hello. Sheriff's office. Yes. Uh-huh. Okay, I'll be right there." He hung up the phone. "There's been another attempted robbery on the First National Bank, and it's still daytime!"

"Go ahead," I called. "We'll follow you." We ran back out to our respective vehicles. The Sheriff and his deputy turned on the sirens to their vehicle as Stoker rode close by. "I can get there faster," he said to the Sheriff. "Nathan and David will not be far behind."

When we got to the bank, other police officers had already set up the yellow tape that read "CRIME SCENE – DO NOT CROSS." They allowed us to cross, however, whenever the Sheriff informed them of how Mugsy's little joke became a reality. When we walked inside the bank, there was another gang member lying unconscious on the floor. The bank employees emerged from hiding and stopped the bell from ringing when we entered. They also turned the radio back on so that they could go back to normal business, and customers that previously took shelter were making deposits and cashing checks once again. To nobody's surprise but the employees themselves, the rumors proved themselves to be true—there was Flame, bright as day, standing and casting a shadow over the unconscious criminal! He let out a triumphant howl as we walked up to him. Then he snapped to attention like a soldier responding to his drill sergeant.

"I guess that part of the mystery is solved," David remarked. "He really has been keeping the syndicate away from City Hall."

"Well, that accounts for the mysterious fact that the crooks have gotten away with nothing," I said. "Remarkable!"

Flame turned the gangster over to the cops, who escorted him back to the station. Naturally, the ex-foster parents weren't thrilled when the police arrived, since the crook Flame apprehended was placed in the same cell. "So they got you, too?" the former dad said. "Figures. We're sunk. Sooner or later, they'll get the ringleader."

Back at the bank, we finally got to speak to Flame. I needed to make a deposit anyway, so while I was doing that, Flame, David, and Stoker stood close by so that I could listen to Flame's side of the story.

"You won't get anything different out of me," he began after I asked him what he was doing at the bank. "This way you know I'm honest. I'm going to tell you and David what I told Stoker the day Ronaldo Rump went to jail and lost all his money. I am the terror that blazes in the night, and in the daytime, too. I cause even the boldest of criminals to quake with fear and wish their lives end right then and there!"

"So you were the one preventing those gangsters from robbing City Hall and killing the mayor, then?" Stoker asked.

"Yes. This is the first time I've actually apprehended the crook. Perseverance pays off in the end. Also, I am a fighting werewolf; I never rest until a crime goes punished. I hope I have not done anything wrong."

"No, you haven't," David replied. "Chances are you are doing the police's jobs for them, but who I am to determine if you are or not?"

"I don't know, but I shall be happy to assist you any way I can. I've only lived in this town for two years, now, and the public says I'm as much to thank for crime stopping as Leo. I think I've become a legend because I have no home. In Scorchopolis, I was a rambler. No home, no family, no way to make a living. Yet when a criminal struck, I was there on the double."

"And you didn't even have TV or radio," I replied. "How'd you know a crime was happening?"

"Simple. I get a strange feeling in my fur. Then I disappear and reappear at the scene of the crime, and the outlaw freaks out and surrenders or flees. Back home there was not a lot of places to go, so that's how I was always able to apprehend the outlaws and turn them over to the authorities. This town's way bigger, so getaways are more common. I don't worry, because I never give up."

"Well, we may need your help on this case," I said. "Uh, we just finished talking with Debbie, that 16-year-old girl whose boyfriend died when Limburger inadvertently electrocuted him. His name was Josh Hartford. Did he happen to get a taste of your wrath?" I showed him Josh's card.

"Yes, he did," Flame replied after studying Josh's mug shot. "He's the one that tried to rob this very bank the other night. When I appeared, he thought he was seeing a ghost of some sort whose purpose was to haunt him now and forevermore, since he already thought he was cursed, so he fled for his life and he took the girl with him. He got away by sneaking into a detour that was closed so that construction crews could work on the road. I had no sense of breaking the law, so I let him run until his death."

"Fascinating," said Stoker as we left the bank. "Nathan, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't see the point of your organization anymore. We got the whole force of justice right here." He gave Flame a friendly pat on the back.

"He's not putting us out of business," I replied. "I can assure SUPERCAT will see to that. But he certainly does make a great ally. Has Leo added you to that network of his yet?" By now, David and I had sat down back in his convertible, and Flame had taken the back seat.

"He has," Flame replied, nodding his head. "He added me right after I helped the Biker Mice and your friend Stoker here capture Rump and make him confess the Regenerator was his only source of income. His billions of dollars in his account and every family member's account was taken out and given to the federal government to pay off the debt. But it wasn't enough. Yet they still managed to retire the debt. How'd they do that?"

"I used my powers to pay the balance," I replied. "In fact, I sent six times the total amount and told them to put it to good use. Of course, I also mentioned Leo, which scared them back into line as it was, so I have to cut that habit out. He hates being used as a threat."

"But it works," Stoker added. "Just mention him or even his friend Tom and the criminal surrenders. It happened just this afternoon."

"When?" asked Flame.

"When the 16-year-old girl's former foster parents arrived to attempt to reclaim her so they could abuse her—again—for her running away," Stoker replied, "I pulled my gun out and told them to halt in the name of Leo. The dad apparently had no idea Leo is trying to fix his actions of harshness, because he froze scared stiff. I took him and his wife to jail on a citizen's arrest charge. Then this happened. You took care of it, though."

"Indeed," said Flame.

Then my pager beeped. "Oh, that's probably Leo," I said. "Just so you know, Flame, we're keeping him up to date on this. He employed us, you understand."

"He did?"

"That's his addition to Mugsy's little joke."

"Oh, I see."

I picked up my pager and answered it as David followed Stoker back to the Last Chance Garage. "Hello?"

"Hi, Nathan; it's Leo. What's going on? I heard sirens."

"Oh, another gangster tried to rob the First National Bank, but he's in jail now, thanks to the actions of Flame the Werewolf."

"So he was keeping the mayor's life going and the criminals from getting anything!"

"Yes. Now he's with us. As soon as we get back to the Garage, you'll get to hear his side of the story."

"Great. Oh, and by the way, I called to let you know SUPERCAT is at the Garage, and he knows what's going on."

"Thanks," I said as the communication link broke off.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:  
Piecing the Clues Together**

When we made it back to the Last Chance Garage, Leo was waiting for us at the front door, but SUPERCAT was gone. By this point, the Biker Mice had left on another case in response to a scene where Limburger kicked out a few five-year-old kids playing around an abandoned building so he could do business, so it was only Leo and Charley, who had a water bottle with her so that she would not suffer from dehydration in the intense heat of the summer.

"So it was you protecting the mayor's life, huh?" Leo began.

"Yes, it was," said Flame. "I just hope I haven't been doing the police's duties for them, because if I have, I'm a criminal myself. You know, the whole controversy over vigilante actions."

"Indeed," said Leo, "but I do not have any time to discuss that right now. I would prefer we clear up this mystery. David, any signs of any more gangsters?"

"I'm afraid not," David replied. "The only one we saw was the one Flame caught in the act of trying to rob the bank. The police have it closed off until the bank's employees can fully calm down."

"So where does this put us?" I asked. "We caught a few gangsters so far but they have not told us anything about the one leading the operation."

"I suppose we'll just have to keep on trying until we find him or until the whole thing just ends," Stoker replied. "The way I see it, there is a pattern here. Every crime that either Flame or you and me have put to rest has been committed by a gang member. If the pattern keeps up, we will eventually catch the ringmaster. Only thing is, how do we know he's the ringmaster? His card definitely won't say something about that. Or will it?"

"I don't know," said Leo, "but one thing is for certain: the mayor has full confidence in you. He called me to remind me about tomorrow's ceremony and I had a few questions for him about the case. In the meantime, if you happen to see SUPERCAT airborne, he's just on patrol, looking for crimes to put to rest himself." No sooner had he said those words when the mighty Cat of Steel flew on by. "Oh, look; there he is now," Leo added. "He seems to be in a hurry. I think you'd better follow him. Flame, you stay here; I have some things to ask you about your winning streak." Flame nodded his head.

"Yes, let's do that," I said as David and I jumped back in his convertible. Stoker saddled up on his motorcycle, put on his helmet, gunned the engine, and headed in SUPERCAT's direction, with David following him. I used my pager to talk to SUPERCAT, but because the public already knew about the supposed "secret" identities of the G-52s, it was common for G-52s to address one another by their "secret" identities' names, but to avoid confusion between me and WARCAT (because we both had the first name Nathan), everybody in the organization always called him WARCAT and me CRIPTOCAT or by my shortened nickname, "Cripto." (This is not to be confused with the spelling "Krypto," which refers to Superman's pet dog.)

"Hi, boss; it's Cripto," I began. "Leo sent us because he thought you were in hot pursuit of someone."

"I am," SUPERCAT replied. "He's heading for Cat's Granby, the rural part of town. Understandably so, he's been ordered by his boss to dynamite the oil wells we just installed down there. I think the boss wants to be rich in the end, and the oil will only add to the auction value of the plaques and statuettes. Hope that gives you some more clues."

"It still doesn't tell us who the ringleader is," I replied, "but I have a feeling you just solved the puzzle behind his motives for this crime. He wants to be rich."

"I can guarantee it's not Ronaldo Rump," Stoker added. "We already blew a hole in his alibi."

"Leo was telling me about that just a few minutes ago. Was Flame behind that case being laid to rest as well?"

"He did his part. We did the rest."

"I see. Well, see you there." We kept in touch so that we would lead SUPERCAT to the right place.

By the time we made it to Cat's Granby, the part of the metropolitan area where farmers rule the land, I pointed out to Stoker and David which house was the famous house of "Callahan Cody" Belachman. "Apparently it was Cody who alerted SUPERCAT," I said. "I wonder if he's in on the crime stopping as well?"

"If he is," Stoker replied, "then it seems our jobs are getting less and less important. Soon we'll be nothing more than an ornamental figure to the public if this keeps up. Oh, well; it still works as a hot promo for our next tour."

"Yeah," said David.

SUPERCAT landed himself at Cody's front door as we pulled up, but Cody was out in the fields taking care of his horses, including Lightning, the horse he was famous for riding. It seemed he was too busy to answer our answer at first, but he finally noticed. "Howdy!" he called. "Thank y'all kindly for taking my call. Some outlaws done gone up and vandalized them farmlands of them neighbors of mine, and they were wearing brown. I reckon they're part of that there gang y'all've been chasing through these here parts. And I don't take kindly to no strangers in these parts!"

"Which way did they go?" I asked.

"They went that-a-way," Cody replied, pointing in the direction where the next wave of gunfire was coming from. "Frankly, I'd like to help y'all out but it's too dang hot to let them crops of mine die out."

"Thanks for the information nevertheless," SUPERCAT spoke up. "We appreciate it, Cody. We'll keep you posted in the meantime." He flew in the direction of the gunfire. We followed him at a safe distance.

When we got to the place where the gunfire was happening, SUPERCAT took a nosedive into the barn so he could put an end to the madness. David, Stoker, and I ran in after him. It was not a pretty sight to see. But it was a crucial part of the mystery. It was just the clue we'd been looking for, as SUPERCAT stood triumphantly with several more gang members held prisoner of his.

"How about that?" I exclaimed. "Look at these handbags. And look what's inside!"

"Money, and a whole lot of it!" David added. "There must be at least $2.5 million in here."

"But where did it come from?" Stoker spoke up as the police arrived. "That's what I want to know."

The farmer and his wife emerged from hiding. "Is it safe to come out?" he asked.

"Yes, it is," I said. "Is this your farm?"

"Yes," he replied. "Who are you?"

"We are the Gothic Detectives," I replied. "I'm Nathan. He's David. He's Stoker."

"Oh, you're the rock stars who are solving mysteries together?"

"Yes. Mugsy Johnson, the former leader of this 'Dawg in the Pound' Gang, meant it as a joke, but it stuck. In the meantime, tell us what you were doing when the gang opened fire."

"We were just preparing our wheat for harvest. How'd you know about the gang?"

"Cody told us," David replied, pointing in the direction of his farm. "He said he'd prefer to round up the gang himself but the heat was preventing him from doing so, so we had to do it." He bent down to examine the ID cards that had fallen out of each gang members pocket at the moment SUPERCAT took them prisoner. As each one walked over to the police and let themselves be cuffed, they also handed each of their ID cards to us. The last one, Bully Arider, was the ringleader.

"All right, Arider! Bark!" Stoker demanded. "You're the ringleader! You're the one we've been looking for all this time. What's this all about?"

"What's your whole motive behind stealing all those plaques and statuettes?" David added. "As if we didn't know," he whispered to the Sheriff.

"And don't try anything," I concluded. "If you do, we'll know about it."

"Will Leo the Patriotic Lion know about it?" Arider asked us.

"He's a colleague of ours, so the answer is yes," I replied. "That's why I said, 'Don't try anything.'"

"Well, then it's over," Arider grieved. "My life has come to an end. The 'Dawg in the Pound' Gang is history. And Leo the Patriotic Lion will get all the glory, at least, at that ceremony tomorrow."

"Where does this $2.5 million you stole here really belong to?" Stoker asked, pointing to the cash.

"That came from the City Hall treasury. Our gang's motive was to become as rich as possible, as quickly as possible, and we're certain the plaques and statuettes that we had yet to rob have great sentimental value. Overall, at least $162 million would have been all ours, if I did the math correctly. The plaques and statuettes would have sold for quite a bit at auction."

"So that's why you were going to steal them?" I asked.

"Yes. But we never did. My cohorts wouldn't tell me why."

"It was this guy," I said, pulling out Flame's photo. "Does he look familiar to you?"

"He does," said Arider. "I know who he is, so you don't have to tell me. Oh, yes, that would explain a whole lot." At that point he let himself be handcuffed, and we briefly ran over back to Cody's farm to tell him we caught the remaining gang members, including Arider. "Yippie-eye-oh-ky-ay!" he shouted gleefully. "I knew y'all could do it! My hat's off to you!"

Later, at the Sheriff's office, Arider and the remaining gang members each were given their own cells, and Leo, Flame, and Mugsy joined up with us so they could get the confirmation that the case was closed. "Congratulations, Gothic Detectives!" Leo smiled. "You solved your first case! Tell me, though, do you think they would have been able to get away with the plaques and statuettes if Flame hadn't been up to his old bag of tricks?"

"Probably," I said. "Their intention was to auction them off and make big cash in addition to all the money they stole from the City Hall Treasury's Vault. The mayor spoke to me and said he hadn't had time to set up an account with the First National Bank of Wildcat City, but he's doing that now just before they close."

"I see," said Leo. Turning to Arider, he said, "So you are the ringmaster?"

"I am," said Arider, "and I never thought I was going to have to face you. Everything they say is true, but the Cat of Steel is really the one you should praise; he caught us in the act."

"I couldn't have done it without their help," SUPERCAT replied, gesturing towards David, Stoker, and me. "Their actions led me to the right spot, and there you were, stashing the cash. Can I ask what led you to freeze scared stiff in the end?"

"I told my gang to initiate defensive procedures in case we were under attack, but the blockade you made when you bolted in was too large for us to go anywhere or fight back, so we just gave up."

"Oh, okay. It wasn't because you hate the flag or anything."

"No. We may be gangsters, but we're not flag-haters. We never paid attention to the flag; we just knew it was the American flag."

"So you're not flag-haters like Lawrence Limburger, then?" Leo spoke up. "That's a relief. My biggest pet peeve is those who disrespect the flag if nothing else. I assume you've had your rights read to you."

"Yes, and I plan on pleading guilty to the whole thing. Since you three cracked us down, one by one, until this incident, I shall go ahead and tell you that when Josh Hartford died, he left the cash he stole inside his vehicle, but none of my gangsters could ever find the car. Do you happen to know what it was?"

"No, but I can find out," I said. "I'll give that 16-year-old girl a call." I took out my cell phone and dialed the number to the foster house Debbie was living at. Debbie picked up the phone after listening to her answering machine, a rule she had been taught since she was five years old.

"Hello?" she began.

"Hi, Debbie, it's Nathan again," I said. "The one who gave you the autograph earlier today. We just apprehended the ringleader of the 'Dawg in the Pound' Gang, and while confessing everything to us, he said that the cash your boyfriend stole was still inside the trunk of the car he was driving. But he and his gang could never find the car. Do you remember what kind of car it was?"

"Hang on," Debbie replied. "Let me check." She opened a book where she kept some of her documents according to the records her current foster parents kept, and finally managed to find a photo of her and Josh posing in front of his car. "Nathan? You still there?"

"Yes."

"The car is a classic 1973 Ferrari. It's a brighter shade of blue. I remember him parking it down by the Bengal Lake, and then he ran towards whatever is the lake on the other side, only to run into Limburger's wiring, suffer electrocution, and die. I also happen to remember that his personalized license plate read 'DAWGGIE.'"

"Okay, great," I said, writing it down. "Thanks a lot, Debbie. Bye." I hung up the phone and said to the police and my colleagues, "I just called Debbie and she says it's a blue 1973 Ferrari, with a personalized license place that says 'DAWGGIE.' That's D-A-W-G-G-I-E. It's parked by the Bengal Lake. You might be able to find the cash in the trunk."

"Great, thanks," said the Sheriff as he and the police left to search for the Ferrari. We turned back to Arider and said, "Well, there you go. It was a blue 1973 Ferrari."

"As soon as your friend here mentioned the license plate, it all came back to me," Arider nodded. We said good-bye to him and left the police station. It was about 8:23 p.m., and Leo could not resist showing his gratitude. "Do you know how proud I am of you three?" he asked. "Had Mugsy not made that little joke, that gang would still be in business. You are happy, aren't you?"

"Oh, you bet," Stoker replied.

"Same here," David added.

"Cripto?"

"Yes?"

"You're happy, aren't you?"

"Yes, but I'm too exhausted to let it show. It's been a long day. Boy, am I thirsty. I think Maximum Mighty Melt is running a special on large drinks: 49¢."

"Sounds good to me." We all headed for the nearest Maximum Mighty Melt to eat dinner. This particular Maximum Mighty Melt turned out to be the biggest one in town, as it also served as an underpass for cars. For this reason, exit and entrance ramps bordered the two parking lots, and Main Street temporarily divided into a brief highway with a median.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:  
Wrapping It All Up**

The next day turned out to be quite a bright and sunny one, with a cheerful attitude. A large crowd gathered at City Hall at 10 a.m. to witness Leo's induction, as well as Tom the Patriotic Tiger and his father's inductions. To Mitchell the occasion, although they didn't play their instruments (and since Tom's father was one of them), the U.S. Army Hellcats attended the ceremony, and Tom's father had the pleasure of introducing them to Leo afterwards.

While the three of us did not attend the ceremony, we met Leo, Tom, his father, Mugsy, and the mayor at the nearest Culver's™ for lunch that day, and among the people that came we did not count on were Debbie and her current foster parents. She was more than thrilled to see me again, needless to say. "So have you captured the ringmaster yet?" she asked me.

"We did," I replied. "And thanks for helping us out yesterday. The police also found your ex-boyfriend's car and returned the cash to the bank. Oh, and they also said you could have the car in case you don't own one already, so it should be at your house. Or is it?"

"It was," she said. "We drove it to City Hall this morning."

"Oh, did you attend the ceremony?" Leo asked as he went to fill up his car at the self-serve beverage bar. "I didn't see you."

"We did. We stood near the back."

"Oh, I see. Oh, are you the 16-year-old foster girl that one gangster was dating?"

"Yes, but at the time I had no idea he was a criminal. I'm not worried about finding a new boyfriend, but I'm now certain he wasn't the one for me."

"What were his intentions? I haven't met you yet."

"Oh, I see. How do you do?" Debbie and Leo shook hands. "Josh—that's my ex-boyfriend—wanted to use me as a decoy so he get away with the cash he stole. I'm pretty certain that's when he would've dumped me at that point, so I'm not upset. He must've took a wrong turn because he meant to go one way but turned the other way to see what the activity was, which was Limburger's plot to tap into the city's power supply. And of course, curiosity killed the cat. Well, human, actually, but you know what I mean."

"Yes, I do," said Leo. "Later, David called me and told me about how your former foster parents tried to grab and abuse you again. What was that about?"

"They somehow didn't get the message the police assigned me to new foster parents. Either their answering machine's battery was dead, or they were out and they never checked it. I don't know. All I know is that wanted to take me back so they could potentially beat me to death again."

"Well, that puts two charges on their record. Abusing you and their role in the 'Dawg in the Pound' Gang will make it two life sentences. I just hope you'll be able to relax a bit more now. The whole gang is in jail, and there's no way getting out. Well, that's not entirely true; if the trial for Bully Arider goes just as it did for Mugsy, he'll just pay a huge fine and be out of jail. We've determined his cronies won't ever repent, but he certainly showed signs of repentance."

"Tell him I forgive him, would you, please?"

"Yes; why?"

"I just feel obligated to forgive him."

"Okay."

We sat down at tables close to where the big screen TV was located to see the coverage of the Bully Arider trial. As we were hoping for, Arider was only fined $500,000 for his role as ringleader when it was proven he had lost his abilities to even hatch another evil scheme. "Justice is pretty swift in this town," Leo made the comment to Debbie's foster parents when they asked about it. "Plus, we don't like the whole 'house arrest' concept; instead, we're letting him go back into society a forever changed dog. Mugsy, how'd you get to being a defense attorney so fast?"

"My résumé showed I have a law degree from Harvard," Mugsy replied. "I regret I got started in crime, because I was in business at the time."

"What kind of job did you have?"

"One of those corporate officials for Pepsi, that's the job."

"Okay."

"With this new job as a defense attorney, I can legally say I have been on both sides of the pair: attorney and defendant."

"Nice."

Leo turned to me. "Feeling better after a rough night, Nathan?"

"Yes," I said. "I guess I just needed a good night's sleep. I do believe this is going to prepare me for even tougher challenges ahead. I don't want this to intervene with my duties as a G-52, but what can I do?"

"If they need your help," Stoker promised, "let us know, and we'll put our case on hold so you can solve yours." David nodded.

"Okay, I'll do that. If I get lucky, both cases will relate to each other."

"I hadn't thought of that possibility, but I'll keep it mind."

We took time to eat and relax afterwards, knowing our first case was in the bag. David, Stoker, and I worked out the bugs for the next rock tour our bands were to do using our role as the Gothic Detectives. And you can be rest assured that the next time any case would pop up, we'd be all over it like cream on a bagel.

THE END


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